


WHISPER!

by Golden_Ticket



Series: TOGETHER! [7]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2006, Awkward Teenage Years, F/M, Unfortunate Boners, YOU KNOW IT, and teenage years parties, inspired by my 2006 playlist, teen parties, teenage years, the whisper song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Ticket/pseuds/Golden_Ticket
Summary: orIn A Dark Dark Corner Of A Basement Party**“Hey how you doin’ lil mama? Lemme whisper in your ear,” whisper-breathes a husky, ridiculous voice and he guffaws, letting his forehead fall down on Tessa’s shoulder. “Tell you sunthing that you might like to hear.”“What?” Tessa asks, her skin reverberating with the sound.“This song is so dumb,” Scott says at the same time the whispering continues over a minimal and plain boring snap-beat: “Got got a sexy ass body and your ass look soft. Mind if i touch it? and see if its soft.”“I kinda like it,” Tessa shrugs, still swaying to the beat and he chuckles.“You’re into that?” He laughs and then gets close to her ear, dropping his voice to all breath. “Hey, lil mama let me whisper in your ear?”And he’s joking, honestly he is but then her fingernails dig into his hands and the laugh dies in his throat. She reallyisinto it. Huh.**Scott and Tessa dance to a stupid song and then Scott has a little big problem he has not anticipated...





	WHISPER!

**Author's Note:**

> Quick and hopefully a little funny. Inspired by my GC and dedicated to them.
> 
> I wrote this in a speed session because I have no time and have to get up super early and thus have virtually no time to edit (this should just be my basic disclaimer, I think), so please forgive the mistakes you are bound to find, I will try to weed them all out over the next couple of days.
> 
> I am working on the next BALANCE! instalment but can't make any promises on when it might come out.
> 
> Lastly, I'm looking forward to your feedback and I really hope that if someone here has also been to teen parties in 2006, you feel a kind of nice little flashback :)

It’s the end of season party kicking off the one month of free time (read: two and a half weeks) before the whole gang has to come back to training in Canton and it’s the kind of last day of the term feeling that Scott only dimly remembers from middle school. He’s been missing too much from school to really have it fresh in his mind but he supposes it’s a little like this.

 

They’re all meeting at Meryl’s house, because it’s a bungalow with a basement, which he’d tried to argue meant it wasn’t technically a bungalow but nobody seemed to care about the technicalities and Meryl apparently liked saying “Come to my bungalow” a lot so he let it go. If anything, there is a lot of space, more than enough for their gang of around twenty displaced figure skaters training at the Arctic Edge, plus Poje who drove out two hours from Canada for the free booze. Scott doesn’t know if maybe he’s promised his friend a bit too much of a romper but walking into the house, Andrew Poje seems happy as a clam, checking out whatever girls are already there. Finally his eyes land on Tessa over at the open kitchen counter where she fiddles with a carton of cookies (she won’t touch them after this but it’s cute that she brought them anyway). 

 

“Woah, she looks older than you now, dude,” Poje says, tapping Scott’s shoulder. And like, okay, Scott knows he looks young for his age, he knows, alright? But he doesn’t appreciate people making a thing about it all the time. So what that he looks like he’s hardly hit puberty, he’s still a grown man. And the girls don’t mind. He’s never heard complains, anyway. But yeah, maybe Tess has kind of caught up with him in the looks department - but that was hardly a new development. Either way, Andrew has no business checking her out in any case. Even if she had suddenly gotten D cups overnight, which she doesn’t.

 

“I swear to God man, stay away from Tess,” Scott says with no trace of humour.

“Relax,” Poje laughs, his voice nice and low. Manly, where Scott’s still sounds like he’s thirteen. “No need to get jealous. She’s too scrawny for me anyways.”

“I’m not jealous,” Scott says, his jaw so square he can barely get the words out. “It would just be weird. And she’s not scrawny.”

“Whatever,” Poje says like he really couldn’t care less. “Let’s drink.”

 

They approach the counter and only then does Tessa become aware of Scott's presence, precisely when he puts his hand on the small of her back and she whips her head around as she discards the now empty cookie carton. There’s a whiff of cherry shampoo scent wafting from the whoosh of her hair and he takes a moment to deal with that. 

“Hey,” she says to Scott, then realises his tall companion is Andrew and squeals in delight, lurching past Scott like he’s last weeks leftovers. Giddily, she hurls herself at Poje instead who hugs her back tight. Scott glares at them, even if he tries not to. _S.O.S._  comes on over the speakers when Tess and Andrew break apart and she gleams a thousand watt smile up at the other guy.

And, look, Scott isn’t jealous, not at all. He’s got a girl and Tessa is his off-limits dance partner, almost-sister, yeah? (That he absolutely never ever thinks about when he jerks off, ever, never. Nope.) So, he’s not jealous. At all. He just dislikes Tessa’s default crush on everyone who’s over six feet. Because that’s not a quality. It’s a lottery win. It doesn’t say anything about the merit of character or anything. Thus, basing infatuation on that is just stupid and he doesn’t want her to get hurt, that’s all. Not that Tessa would go for Andrew. Probably. He hopes so at least. She’s way too young for that. She’s way too young for everything. Absolutely, completely too young. And Tessa. She’s Tessa. (Scott feels dirty and guilty, remembering the last three compromising positions he has pictured her in at length in as many days...he really needs to get a damn handle on things and soon.)

 

Chiding himself, Scott pours a generous amount of third rate gin into a red Solo cup from the counter, adds ice from a bucket that is quickly becoming a bucket of ice  _water_ (genius idea there, Meryl) and tries to figure out if he’s so adamant on Tessa not dating anybody because it’s a logical conclusion in regards to her well-being or if it’s because he believes he shouldn’t have to see that and if that is for the right reasons. He sips from the cup, pulling a face at the harshness of the concoction and deliberates adding more tonic but then decides to tough it out. Both the gin tonic and his weirdness about Tess, which is by no means a new thing.

 

He’s been an idiot about her for a pretty long time now. Since that night their first week in Canton when she stayed over because they were both lonely and homesick and she’d worn his boxer shorts and her legs in that get-up kind of fried his brain. Since then it had been a zoo, his feelings for her. It’s like he had 'round about five Scotts in his head at all times, each with their own warring agendas, messing with his every thought.

 

Scott One was the little boy from Ilderton gagging at the thought of wanting to do the kissy with Tessa, who is pretty much his little sister. Scott Two was someone‘s boyfriend who at least tried to not be a giant asshole (with little success but that had shit all to do with his skating partner, honestly). Scott Three is convinced that Tessa is a perfect, innocent angel and no one, least of all him, should get their filthy roaming hands on her. Scott Four speaks with Marina‘s voice, accent and all, about how one should never get into „rrilashions“ with a skating partner because it fucks everything up (and that’s the last thing he wants). Scott Five, who is pretty a much a dick, if not his actual dick, says „touch her, kiss her, wreck her, fucking get everything she has and never let go of her ever“ at a volume that the other four Scotts barely manage to drown out. 

 

Right now, Scotts one through four are doing a good job of it though and Tessa helps greatly, even if she doesn’t know it, by relocating to the couch to talk to Tanith and Charlie. With the unfortunately enticing smell of her hair removed from his immediate proximity, Scott has an easier time getting his head on straight and he listens to Poje going off on a tangent about crossing the border earlier and Scott almost manages to pay attention all the way through and vocalise his agreement at exactly the right times. He’s doing great. He’s so pleased with himself, really, he's swaying a bit celebratory when the Rihanna song switches rather abruptly to _Gasolina_ and a couple of the guests start bopping their heads to the beat, most of all Charlie, whose blonde curls shake from the movements and Scott catches the way Tessa studies that hair, looking a little transfixed and somehow, it makes him run his hand through his own locks, wondering if he should grow it out. She seems to like it long. Not that he cares what kind of hair she likes, not at all. It would just maybe be interesting to see if it would…change anything? Maybe? He’s not sure why he would like to know. Or how on earth the length of his hair could change the fact that he can _not_ have a crush on Tessa Virtue.

 

He’s in the middle of trying to get back to listening to Andrew talking when Meryl bursts out of what he assumes is her bedroom with a screech and a friend he has never seen in tow and gets in the middle of the living room to yell “GASOLINA, BITCHES!! Dancefloor’s downstairs, let’s move!” And because she’s Meryl and she’s mostly terrifying (even if she looks like a very nonthreatening bubble-head on a stick) people actually listen, moving the party downstairs. 

“You’re late, Scottie,” she grins as they meet on the first step.

“Please don’t call me Scottie,” he says but she just snickers. 

“And you haven’t brought food,” she notes, nodding to the second buffet table in the basement on their way down. This one has a little less stuff than the one upstairs but at least there is _another_ bucket of slowly dissolving ice because that idea is _so_ good, you have to have two buckets of cold water at any party a few hours in.

“Poje brought liquor,” Scott says, “and I brought Poje, so that’s my contribution.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Meryl says, which is her version of flipping people off and he takes it as such. And then she’s already darted to the dance floor to tear it apart to Gasolina. She doesn’t care that there are about two and a half other people on the dance floor, she goes nuts anyway. The half being Tessa who has not found her dancing spirit yet.

 

She doesn’t find it for a while, not during _Ridin’ Dirty_ and not for _Check On It_ (although that ads a sway to her hip). She moves a little more to _We Be Burnin_ , which Scott finds hilarious because he’s not all the way sure she knows it’s a song about smoking weed. Not that he is watching her so much. Really, he’s watching Meryl’s new friend. Who is cute and a red head. And like, a real red head, not like Tessa with her dyed hair. He hasn’t made out with a red head so far, maybe that’s a project for tonight. And yeah, he shouldn’t and he shouldn’t even entertain the thought but as long as he considers kissing someone other than his girlfriend that is not Tessa, he kind of feels like he’s doing the right thing. That new girl knows how to move, swaying her hips like she knows what she’s doing and Scott stands on the sidelines watching her leisurely. Simply because he can. That is until the next Sean Paul comes on and Tessa squeals in delight at the first couple of notes of _Temperature_ waft through the speakers and she hops into his line of view excitedly. She shimmies towards Meryl and her friend and shakes her ass, no other way to say it, and Scott thinks he should look away but he can’t.

 

Truthfully, she dances like a spaz and makes weird faces but it’s sort of super cute and he hates how he can’t help but grin at the show she’s putting on.

“Let’s get in there,” Andrew says at his side, grabs them both a beer because both their drinks are emptied at this point and then shoves him onto the dancefloor. And because Scott is nothing but predictable, he slots in behind the red head and begins dancing, way too close for someone who hasn’t even introduced himself.

 

“Hi, I’m Scott,” he says over her shoulder, rectifying that situation.

“Elliot,” says the girl with a dazzling smile over her shoulder and Scott returns it, only making eye-contact with Tessa opposite of them for a second before his skating partner looks away.

“Nice to meet you,” he says to Elliot and obviously she requires little more before she starts grinding on him. He wonders if he should rearrange some stuff as she rubs her ass against his crotch a little there but luckily, he’s doing pretty good on the unwelcome boners by now, which is to say that it doesn’t happen at all anymore because he’s nearly fucking nineteen and honestly, that should be done with (except _sometimes_ with Tessa at practice but they don’t talk about that. Ever). They dance for the rest of the song, Poje waving his hands about and finally grabbing hold of Tessa’s and twirling her around until the song changes to something with trumpets that Scott doesn’t know. He tilts his head at Meryl quizzically because she’s the one who made the playlist and she calls over the music: “The new one from Christina Aguilera, isn’t it awesome?”

 

Yeah, not really but he’ll be fine. Elliot has decided to turn around and sing the chorus she has quickly picked up right into his face, grabbing his collar and singing at him how she wants no other man but him and he thinks he might like the song after all. She only let’s go off him once the next song comes on, which is a definite shuffle mistake and mood killer. But it’s Eminem and he still prides himself on knowing all his lyrics by heart and when Charlie comes barging down from upstairs, they rap and sing a startlingly tight rendition of _Sing For The Moment_ and Scott only fucks up the words once or twice. Okay, by the end there is just Charlie, Poje and him in the middle of the dance floor while the girls mix themselves new drinks. They only join them again for Beyoncé and more Sean Paul. Tessa loves that one, he knows it and it’s no wonder that she barges towards them first, more people joining in. 

“Ah, oh, hurt me so good baby, oh,” she even sings along and Poje takes it upon himself to be the pole-approximate she is obviously looking for as she holds on to his shoulder with one hand and sway and she has no fucking business being this close to him, or this sexy, or wave her hair around like she does, arching her spine, throwing her head back and swaying like sin. And then the chorus hits and Andrew pulls her tighter at her waist, so much so that this waist of hers ends up pressed up flush against his front and that’s when Scott kind of loses his patience.

 

He leaves Elliot to shake her stuff at the empty air and crosses the distance between him and his dick of a friend and his dance partner, plucking Tessa away from him at her shoulders and turning her into him so now it’s his hands on her waist. Over her shoulder, he throws a warning glance at Poje who just cackles and gestures that he’ll get them more beer. _Fine_ , Scott thinks, just get your hands off of my partner. Sean Paul quaks something unintelligible that Scott still mouths along to and if Tess was in any way surprised by him stepping in, she isn’t showing it. She just keeps dancing as if she doesn’t care at all who she’s dancing with and that’s alright with him.

 

Only that it _is_ him and she really _doesn’t_ care that it’s him. Which means that she gets in close, rolling her hips just like she had done with Andrew before and like Elliot had done with him before. And it’s all fine and dandy really until she turns around, bringing his arms around her so they rest lightly on both her hip bones as she sways her firm ass into him. And that’s not leaving him half as unfazed as Elliot in the same position had. Unfortunately. But very fortunately then the song changes to something so stupid, Scott laughs. He knows it from the first finger snap and it’s such a dumb song, whatever he might have felt is completely averted.

 

“Hey how you doin’ lil mama? Lemme whisper in your ear,” whisper-breathes a husky, ridiculous voice and he guffaws, letting his forehead fall down on Tessa’s shoulder. “Tell you sunthing that you might like to hear.”

“What?” Tessa asks, her neck reverberating with the sound.

“That song is so dumb,” Scott says at the same time the whispering continues over a minimal and plain boring snap-beat: “Got got a sexy ass body and your ass look soft. Mind if I touch it? and see if it's soft.”

“I kinda like it,” Tessa shrugs, still swaying to the beat and he huffs.

“You’re into that?” He's laughing loudly now and then gets close to her ear, dropping his voice to all breath. “Hey, lil mama let me whisper in your ear?”

And he’s joking, honestly he is, but then her fingernails dig into his hands and the laugh dies in his throat. She really _is_ into it. Huh.

 

And suddenly the lyrics are clear enough for him to understand as she continues to grind on him, even if they’re stage-whispered.

 

_“Naw I'm jus playin' lets just say I can_

_And I'm known to be a real nasty man_

_And they say a closed mouth don't get fed_

_So I don’t mind asking for your head.”_

 

And there’s a visual he didn’t need in this particular situation. He can’t help imagining a flash of way too red hair between his thighs, begging for it, wanting him, and he also can’t help how that makes him pull her in closer, or turn his face into her neck, close to her ear. Scott Five is having the fucking time of his life, beating the other four into oblivion—with something phallic shaped, probably, if we're being honest.

 

_“You heard what I said, we need to make our way to the bed_

_And you can start usin' yo head_

_You like to fuck, have yo legs open all in da butt_

_Do it up slappin ass cuz the sex gets rough.”_

 

Somehow, they slowed down to a half-beat sway, more friction than actual dancing and he isn’t really sure how it happened, only that it is too good to stop.

 

_Switch the positions and ready to get down to business_

_So you can see what you've been missin'_

_You might had some but you never had none like this._

_Just wait til you see my dick.”_

 

The song is so stupid. The chorus is literally nothing more than a weird dude creep-whispering: “Ay bitch! Wait til you see my dick, wait til you see my dick. Ay…” but Scott is getting a fucking boner. This is just as fucking sad as it sounds. Tessa is rubbing herself against him as if it was her job and the song goes “Beat the pussy up” and Scott has to clench his ass so tight he thinks his eyes might fall out to keep the situation in his pants down. What the fuck is happening? The song sucks, it’s not sexy. Dancing with Tessa is…well, fucking breathtaking as always, even if they’ve maybe never done it quite like that, but it shouldn’t be like _this._

 

“Walk around the club with ya thumb in ya mouth,” he still understands the damn lyrics, too. “Put my dick in, take ya thumb out.”

 

And fuck everything that is holy. If he could stop thinking about his dick in Tessa’s mouth, that would be really great. But instead, she turns around in his arms, brushing her entire body past his growing erection as she swirls, making him near well gasp and wraps her arms around his neck. He has no idea what his face looks like but he tries hard for impassive. She grins up at him, bops her head from side to side and giggles. And God knows why, the next thing she does is rake her fingernails down both sides of the back of his head, digging into his hair and that causes three things to happen at once and without Scott having a hope in hell to stop it.

 

One, his eyes legitimately roll back into his head. Two, he shudders, and gasps loudly. Three, the hands that were on her hips still pull her against his frame on their own accord, press her groin against his dick as he (on instinct, good God, he didn’t plan this!) thrusts once into her, dry-humping his fucking baby skating partner like a skeevy, weird pervert. He realises it in the first second after the _first_ second that his brain explodes. (His body is burning with want but his brain is searing with shame.) His eyes fly open again as his grip on her goes lax and she stares right back at him, eyes huge and mouth hanging open. Her lips are pink and wet, as if she had licked and bitten down on them and unbidden, he imagines putting just the tip of his dick on there, just so, so softly, so she could choose how fast to go, how far to take him in, or to maybe just flick her tongue over the head, like a fucking butterfly. 

 

And then that dick he imagines on her lips twitches up harshly, against to where she’s still pressed against him. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck-crap. Shit._ It’s too late to undo it. But it’s high time he got away from there and so he does. He backs the hell out of there, practically jumping away and leaving her there, probably staring after him like he’s a math problem she can’t solve. He can’t care about that right now, though. He needs to remove himself (possibly from the planet). He’s red like the lava lamp in the corner, can feel it on his ears and the top of his nose, and he walks until he barely runs into the buffet table, stares at the potato salad and wants to die more than a little bit. And then, of all things, _Bad Day_ comes on and doesn't he fucking hate that song?

 

 

Tessa knows that she hasn’t imagined it. Maybe the first time, when she wondered if it was happening while she still had her back turned him. But just now he had…drawn her in. He had pulled her against his…well. And she had felt it. She had felt it twitch. She didn’t know they did that. Her throat is dry. She might need another drink. Nope, she definitely needs another drink. And since Scott is standing like a statue at the buffet and doesn’t look like he’s in any state to communicate with now, she decides to move after a moment and go help herself upstairs. Only walking steps is kind of uncomfortable with as, frankly, wet as she is. She feels her cheeks blush even if obviously no one will know. Best of all, Scott won’t know…although maybe if this was a reaction to her specifically he _might_ care to. But no. He has that sometimes in practice. It happens. It’s nothing. Except it is something to her. She feels like her entire body is decked in goosebumps, ever inch of skin is prickling and there’s a shiver stuck at the spot where his lips had touched the skin of her neck and it makes her shudder from top to toes.

 

As she pours herself a gin and tonic, her hands are shaking. Briefly, she considers going back downstairs or joining the Sing Star party currently happening on the couch at the far wall, Tanith mumbling along to the grey lines of “ _Unwritten_ ” on the screen, but quickly decides against it. She needs some fresh air. Fresh air in this case means Meryl’s cigarette smoke that Tessa steps into, finding the other ice dancer sitting in comfortable solitude on the steps of her porch.

“Smoking is bad for you,” Tessa says, because she always does and sits down. Meryl holds out the cigarette and Tessa takes a drag, coughs pathetically and hands it back. “I still don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Meryl shrugs. “But it makes you less hungry.”

And maybe Tessa should look into that because she is literally hungry _all the time._

 

“Meryl,” she says into the warm summer night, ‘cause she might as well. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the girl says and shrugs, which is good enough for an answer.

“Did Charlie ever, you know, when you were practicing, like, when you were close in like, intimate places…did he ever…,” Tessa cringes, staring at a pine tree and wants to die. She can’t even say the words.

“Pop a boner?” Meryl asks in her bat-cadence, her voice like bubblegum so completely at odds with such a dirty word. “Yeah, it was super awkward.”

“Oh thank God,” Tessa exhales and at the same time Meryl says “So glad it was only once”, she says: “It happens to Scott _all the time_.” 

Suddenly Meryl perches up, her eyebrows jumping into her hairline, her big head on those tiny shoulders looking even bigger because her eyes get large like saucers, coloured with wicked enjoyment of this embarrassing detail that just got slipped to her and Tessa immediately feels sorry she even opened her mouth.

“All the time?” The other girl asks, scandalised and loving it.

“Well, sometimes,” Tessa tries to save it but Meryl wiggles her eyebrows knowingly and snarks.

 

“You guys are hilarious, you know that?” She says. And Tessa doesn’t know it—but she also doesn’t want to say that so instead she studies her shoes (they’re brand new Adidas sneakers in hot pink, she likes them a lot).

“He’s totally into you,” Meryl says when Tessa won’t speak and only then does her head snap back up.

“No, he’s not,” she says like a whip. “Plus he’s got a girlfriend anyway.”

“As if that ever stopped him before,” sighs Meryl dramatically.

“He doesn’t…he’s not a cheater,” Tessa argues, feeling uneasy, knowing where this is going already (and why is she even surprised?!). “He just…likes to flirt.”

“Oh honey,” Meryl says and looks at her like a bird just shat on her head. “Just because he makes sure you’re not around to see it, doesn’t mean he doesn’t bag chicks left and right at the Galas.”

“That’s not true,” Tessa says sternly, getting a little pissed off at the rumours. They’re shit and none of it is true and she thought Meryl should know better than all the others spreading them. And they have to be rumours, right? Scott wouldn’t kiss other girls while he has a girlfriend. (And if he does anyway…why won’t he kiss _her_?)

 

“Don’t worry, he’s probably just over-compensating,” Meryl shrugs, voice singsongy and breezy as a wind-chime. “Because he can’t get with you.”

“No,” Tessa mutters. “He doesn’t want _me_ …that’s not…that’s not what’s happening. We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Meryl shrugs. “But Charlie and I are also just friends and he doesn’t get hard on me every time he has to lift me over his crotch.”

 

And maybe she’s got them there.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? 2006 war flashbacks? Teen party nightmares re-emerging? Tell me about them :)


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